Why will a preacher go into the pulpit on Sunday morning and read an essay on Socrates, Cicero or the Queen of England, when he knows it is as dry as a Texas wind and as empty as a last years' bird's nest? He knows it won't convict sinners, convert mourners, sanctify believers or build up the church. Such preaching never makes a man cry, laugh, get mad or shout. In fact, it won't even keep his congregation awake. While he turns the pages of his manuscript many in his congregation have moved to the land of Nod, and the official board have consulted napper two or three times and report everything running smoothly, no excitement, wild-fire, or fanaticism, but the church in a prosperous condition and a bright outlook for the future.